An Average High School Love Story

Jordan was just your average cheerleader and Taylor your average quarterback. Since they day their eyes had first lock together in an accidental gaze from across the hallway, they have been as close as close can be. They went to movies together, they went to dinner together, they even went stargazing together. They were not together, however. And though they had a perfectly content friendship, one person wanted that title to change. Drastically. 

“I wonder if this is really a good idea,” Jordan mumbled, rolling the pencil back and forth between two fingers with eyebrows furrowed in apprehension.

Although Jordan has always been rather close to Taylor ever since the athlete had migrated from Texas during their sophomore year, it was not enough for the cheerleader. Sure, Jordan absolutely adored talking to Taylor for hours on end, staring deeply into those brown eyes that twinkled when talking about the American sport played with a pigskin ball, but it left a bittersweet aftertaste inside the senior’s mouth. The teenager simply wanted something more; something to satisfy the insatiable quench inside.

However, Taylor was very exceedingly dense, if Jordan wanted to place it in a way that would leave all egos intact. The quarterback was just unable to catch even the boldest of Jordan’s flirtatious hints, when nothing was done to conceal their true intentions.

“You know, Taylor, I think you look super hot.”

“Yeah, coach made us run ten laps today, and it was ninety degrees outside! Can you believe it?”

Jordan really could not.

Nevertheless, on this very Tuesday afternoon, Jordan had decided to turn up the heat a few notches to get a certain point across.

Taking in a breath of courage to ease the raging nerves, Jordan hastily reaches for the bedazzled cellphone from the lunchroom table and dialed a number that has long since been branded on the inside of the teenager’s mind. 

“Taylor, I was hoping you could come meet me for lunch? I’m in the cafeteria. Same spot as usual.”

After hearing an affirmative from the other end of the line, all Jordan could do now was wait and attempt to quell the butterflies fluttering within. Jordan’s critical fear now, besides rejection, was the cowardice retreat that would reset all the progress put towards this moment.

Luckily, it was not a long wait, or that option may have become the chosen path.

“You needed me?”

Jordan jumped from the uncomfortable chair in fright, though this feeling was only settled somewhat when the cheerleader saw Taylor leaning a toned arm across the mahogany desk, the athlete’s golden locks brushing against broad, sun kissed shoulders. Jordan’s voice hitched and the teenager temporarily forgot how to breathe.

“So, you needed me?”

The smooth, silky voice drew Jordan away from the trance.

“Um…well….you see,” The senior attempted to turn the incoherent stuttering into eloquent conversation, but it ended up as a mutant combination of the pair.

Thrusting a sole crimson rose forward, Jordan hastily blurted out the question.

“Will you go to prom with me?”

 Taylor’s eyebrows rose in suspicion. “You want to go to prom. With me?”

Irritation and embarrassment boiled up in Jordan’s veins. “That’s what I just said. Look, maybe you should just forget‒”

The cheerleader was unable to finished the statement, as two calloused hands enveloped the petite frame and drew Jordan into Taylor’s chest.

“You always do this, twisting my words around. Of course I want to go with you, but I would have never thought you would want to go with me. I mean, you’re so beautiful and delicate, and I’m just a rugged brute.”

“Don’t be stupid, Taylor. I’ve wanted to do this since the moment we met.”

The corners of Taylor’s mouth drew upwards. “Then I would be honored to go to prom with you, Jordan.”

Palms sweating, heart pounding. Did Jordan look alright? The cheerleader had spent two hours on hair alone, but what if Taylor didn’t like the style? Not to say that Taylor was a shallow person who judged on looks alone, but this was prom. If the teenager couldn’t look prim and proper now, what would Taylor think? That Jordan was a slob? The thought alone sent a chill running up and down the senior’s spine

However, when Taylor rung Jordan’s doorbell, grasping the car keys with trembling fingers, the athlete’s mouth hung open in awe.

Jordan knew it; the hair was all wrong, the outfit was all wrong, the‒

“You’re absolutely stunning, Jordan.”

Jordan locked eyes with Taylor, searching for any polite deceit that the football player might feel obligated to give. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yes.” Nothing but honesty.

After the ten minute drive to the gymnasium listening to cheesy country love songs (Taylor insisted that this is what ‘quality music’ sounded like and that the techno mumbo-jumbo was just bullcrap), they had finally arrived at the destination of their first official date. Jordan was ecstatic.

Taylor was even more perfect than usual to Jordan and treated the cheerleader as royalty. The quarterback held the door for Jordan, got refreshments for Jordan, and stayed by Jordan’s side the entire evening, even when Taylor’s teammates wanted their captain to go out with them to watch a game. It felt like a fairytale dream, and Jordan hoped to never wake up.

They were absorbed in a conversation about trivial matters when a magnified voice boomed through the speakers.

“Hey Hovland Seniors! If you all gather by the stage, we’ll announce this year’s prom king and queen.”

A flash of recognition flare up in Taylor’s eyes. “I hadn’t even thought about prom king and queen!”

A smile played on Jordan’s lips as the cheerleader imagined what they would look like in those cheap, plastic crowns.

Now intrigued Jordan grabbed Taylor’s hand and pushed through the sea of bodies to get to the front of the gymnasium with just barely enough time to hear the results.

“This year’s prom king is…”

The man on stage ripped opened the manila envelope.

“Our cheer captain, Jordan Ritchell!”

Jordan’s feet felt frozen in place until Taylor gave him a firm shove from behind. 

“Go on, get on stage!” 

Cautiously placing one foot in front of the other in an attempt to not stumble in front of the entire student body, Jordan eventually found his way onto the stage. As he looked into the roaring crowd, the glaring spotlights cause his vision to temporarily become blotched. They only thing he could distinctly make out was two brown eyes, peering up at him with nothing short of admiration.

“And this year’s prom queen is…”

Jordan drew in a sharp breath.

“Our quarterback, Taylor McCay.”

The force of the applause caused the floor to rumble as Taylor all but ran up the stage, almost tripping over the third step. She did not rush to the announcer’s side to receive her tiara, but instead came immediately to Jordan. She grasped his hand and intertwined their fingers together. 

“Taylor? What are you doing, you need to‒”

Warmth. This was the first though that fluttered through Jordan’s mind. Taylor’s lips were pressed against his. Taylor was kissing him.

Taylor moved away and pulled Jordan’s head towards her shoulder in an embrace.

Her breath gently caressed his ear as she whispered, “I love you, King Jordan Ritchell.”

The confession Jordan made next was not spoken with his vocal chords; it was spoken with his heart.

“I love you too, my queen.”

… 

As you can see, there was nothing out of the ordinary when it came to this love stricken couple. Jordan, he was just your average cheerleader and Taylor, she was just your average quarterback.

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